


To Strengthen or to Sever

by Eternalevecho



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Amputation, Gen, Road Trips, Suicidal Thoughts, attempts at family bonding, these two are a mess, war secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23839354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternalevecho/pseuds/Eternalevecho
Summary: When Prowl goes back for Springer at the end of SOTW, several disastrous events lead to him and Springer stuck on a ship together as they make their way back to Cybertron. What secrets will be revealed? And will the two accept their family bond, or break it completely?
Relationships: Prowl & Springer (Transformers), Prowl/Tarantulas
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41





	1. Fate Crumbles

This is a terrible idea _,_ Prowl thought as he worked his way deeper into the noisemaze. Springer is a competent survivor and fully capable of getting himself out. That is why Prowl had picked him for events like this. But still…

Springer did make it very clear that he came on the mission to rescue him because the damage the secrets Prowl held could do. Not only to the Autobots cause, but also the universe as a whole. After all, there is no other reason for him to save a mech like Prowl. No other reason at all.

As he climbed over yet another large chuck of rubble, from High Tide's rampage or another explosion Prowl did not bother to note, he was here for Springer; and the faster he found him, the better their chances of getting out alive were. Prowl tried to keep his processor from wandering. Mesuthulas is _alive,_ He thought, trying to shove down the myriad of emotions that brought up for him. Especially after that 'reunion'-

Prowl shook off the thought. That was a mistake, and one he was not going to repeat again. Mesu- no, Tarantulas, is too dangerous to let emotions cloud how Prowl thought of him. Especially since he knows far too many Autobots secrets. Many of them secrets that Prowl had personally buried over the course of the war. And Springer's origins was not a secret simply to hide their involvement, or to protect him if Tarantulas had managed to escape the noisemaze. Which did happen, so that part had worked out; anyways, part of it was to keep anyone from finding out about his artificial spark.

Prowl looked up at the strange tower, gauging how soon he might find Springer _if_ he had managed to get out of the tower. The swirls of color, along with Prowl's limited vision would make spotting him a bit of a challenge. 

For the sixth time since entering the portal to the noisemaze, Prowl _slightly_ regretted being so quick to leap back into this sensory hell. Very foolish for a mech as injured as he to go on the speed-esential mission. He usually didn't act so rash. Or at least tried not to.

There!

Springer's battered body, streaked with the vivid pink of energon lay sprawled on the ground 15 yards to Prowl's right. As he quickly started making his way towards the triple-changer, he watched with slight surprise as the downed mech forced himself to his peds and took a shaky step in the direction of the space station looming in the sky.

_____________________________________________

Wow, it has been a while since Springer hurt this much. Like, ouch. Looking at Prowls dumb mug did not help the pain at all. No sir. 

“Is there a reason you're looming over me, or did you just feel like it?” Prowl’s face shifted from his usual flat look of disapproval to a slightly more irritated frown before grabbing his arm and pulling him more firmly to his peds. Springer went through all this effort to come save Prowl's sorry plating, and this is the thanks he got? Prowl hasn't changed a bit, Springer shot him a dark look, but knew better then to say those thoughts out loud.

“We still need to get out of here. Come on.” and without so much as a word of concern or any interest in Springer's epic battle with the creepy spider-mech, who thought Springer's name was 'Ostaros' or something like that. Stander Prowl response to a mission, only paying attention to the information _he_ thought was relevant.

Springer started to follow Prowl through the rubble back to where the wrecker station punctured the noisemaze. Clambering over chunks of building and the weird semi-ground that makes up most of the noise maze would have normally been an easy task; but with Prowl a mess and Springer in no better shape, definitely not dealing with any mental effects from the lack of protection from the noisemaze. Nope none of those. They were not making good time back towards their exit from this technicolor prison.

**_Crack!_ **

The ground began to crumble beneath their feet! Springer frantically scrambled trying to get away from the pit opening up in the ground. Well, this wasn't the kind of death he was hoping for, Springer thought, exasperated, before they were plunged into darkness. 

_____________________________________________

Springer returned to his senses laying in the dark, dusty tunnel he and Prowl had fallen into. _Welp, I'm starting to think we're just fated to die in this hell hole_ , which was a bit more defeatist the Springer usually let himself think; but it had been a very long cycle, and neither of the two were in particularly good shape.

But Springer is a Wrecker. They don’t just give up and die, even when death seems inevitable. They fight until the bitter end _._ So on that cheery note, Springer pulled himself upright, digging one of his swords into the ground to use as a lever to get himself to his peds. _Well, I guess I can be lucky,_ he noticed the large chunks around him that would have seriously hurt had they landed on him. 

But, Prowl had not been so lucky. Several blocks had landed on his right ped, pinning him in place.

“Gimme a sec,” Springer knelt in the growing pool of energon, both his and Prowl's, trying to pry the blocks off of Prowl's leg. “I really hope Impactor waits just a bit longer to pull the kill-switch, cause this might take a bit.”

Prowl, his already battered features scrunched in pain snapped at him, “Just cut it off! we do not have time to waste on this! The noisemaze could implode on us at any time!”

"Well, if you say so," and Springer brought his sword down onto Prowl's leg just above the debris. The first swing only cut about a third of the way through the leg. While it only took two more swings to sever the limb completely, it took much longer for the screams to stop echoing back at them.

The next several minutes involved some truly atrocious field patches to try and keep Prowl from bleeding out right then and there before they escaped. 

Eventually, Springer stabilized Prowl enough to pull him to his remaining ped. "It's time to keep going then, let's hope nothing else goes wrong."

The two began to slowly make their way down the corridor, Springer using one of his swords as a cane to help keep himself upright with Prowl's shakey weight on his other arm. Springer had to put far too much thought into each step, not only to maintain his own shaky balance, but to keep from dragging Prowl off his remaining leg and sending him to the ground. I mean, he deserves to get dropped, but getting out alive first, petty revenge second.

It took them far too long to reach the end of this corridor and turn onto the next one. _At this rate we are sooo not going to get out of here in time_ , Springer commiserated to himself, at least we're giving it our best shot instead of just giving up. 

"Wait," Prowl pulled on his arm towards a doorway in the side of the hall, "do you see that in there?"

Springer glanced into the room before doing a hard double-take. 

"Is that an exit gate? Here?" Springer couldn't believe their luck. They weren't totally fragged! With the way the world is swaying, there is no way we would have made it out in time. 

What followed was the closest thing they could manage to a scramble; as the two almost dead mechs worked frantically to activate the portal. 

The moment the portal opened, Springer grabbed Prowl and dragged him through it. 

_____________________________________________

Prowl and Springer emerged in a dark laboratory, faintly lit by the portal's glow. It was far, far too similar to the lab that Mesuthulas had during the war. 

Springer managed to walk several steps deeper into the lab, away from where he had dropped Prowl by the portal, before collapsing. 

_Well, is that not just my luck_ Prowl noted, staring at Springer's unconscious body where it lay on the ground. 

At least Tarantulas has the decency to keep his lab layout the same. Prowl looked around the room for the medical supplies that _had_ to be there. Quickly, before he joined Springer in unconscious and bled to death on the laboratory floor. Not a dignified way to go. 

So he began the slow process of dragging himself across the floor to a section of wall with a medical bearth poking out from behind it. At least he hoped it was a medical bearth, and not something considerably more disturbing. 

The room with the bearth is a medical bay, which is good news for Prowl, who is starting to feel woozy from the energon loss. He grabbed onto the drawers of the counter, one by one to pull himself up to standing position. He need to find the tube clips, and several caps for the cut wires. Prowl continued to plan out the medical steps he needed to perform as he methodically searched the drawers for the supplies he needed. 

There, that should be all of them. And he slowly lowers himself to the ground with one arm, the other cradling the medical supplies to his chest. 

The moment Prowl was safely settled on the ground he got to work on property sealing at the torn open tubes and wires at the end of what was left of his leg. 

Prowl spent the next 20 minutes patching up his injuries, starting with the most dangerous energon leaks, then the wires, before finally checking his dents to make sure they were not pinching any important parts before he allowed himself to stop.

"We are in so much trouble," Prowl allowed his helm to fall back against the counter. His ability to do anything is severely limited while down an eye and leg. The connection with Kup has been severed, so unless they managed find a long distance communication array there is no way to call for backup or let the others know they are alive, and lastly Prowl was stuck there with Springer who has made his opinion of Prowl very clear.

Well if he died out here then the Autobots don't have to worry about any information being leaked. That could count as an upside. And Optimus wants nothing to do with him anymore. No one wants anything to do with him anymore. 

Prowl stared contemplatively at the small clips that were the only thing keeping him alive. He could just…… remove them. It would be quick with how much energon was lost in the noisemaze. But, Prowl looked back towards the doorway to the main room, where Springer probably still lay on the floor. Just dying on him after he had done so much work to get Prowl this far. And he had already ruined Springers life enough. So he would just have to keep going for now. 

"First things first, I need to grab more medical supplies," He dictated to himself as he began the slow process of collecting the medical supplies he guessed would be most helpful in repairing Springer. 

After collecting an appropriate amount of supplies, Prowl started the slow process of dragging himself back to where he had left Springer in front of the portal. Despite the limits transporting the medical supplies added, he made good time back to Springer and the portal. But the portal had disappeared, and the frame that once held it lay on the floor in pieces.

There is no way back now, he noted before getting to work. Fortunately, Springer's injuries were mostly superfluous, probably because Tarantulas was making sure not to hurt his precious Ostaros. Prowl scoffed, but that made his work much easier so it was best not to complain too much.

Prowl flinched violently at a sudden pinch between his doorwings broke his concentration. He twitched his wings to undo the probable cable cramp that had caused the pain before resuming his work. 

After finishing and repositioning Springer further from the portal, Prowl started searching the room for something he could use as a cane to more efficiently explore the rest of the place. First things first, Prowl slowly began making his way towards a T shaped welded pipe that might work as a crutch. He needed to find a long range communication array or a ship. From what Impactor had said, Springer only came out of his coma right before they came to retrieve him. And who knows what kind of damage the unfiltered noisemaze could have done on top of that. Well, and if Prowl's own injuries weren't seen to by a medic… Prowl had seen what happened when a mech with missing parts went without a medic or a replacement for too long. As flexible as processors could be, they had their limits. 

There was a loud clatter as Prowl pulled the pipes he planned on using as a makeshift crutch to a floor. It took some maneuvering to get himself and the crutch over to and then up a counter. But finally he had a way to move around with some speed if he was careful. A single crutch was not the best solution to a missing leg, the balance was not great. None the less, progress was progress. 

So from what seemed to be the main laboratory there were three doorways. One lead over to the slightly separate medbay, the other two were identical dark tunnels. Between them Prowl decided to take the right tunnel, which was closer to the medbay. And Prowl slowly limped into the darkness. 

It was a long way down the tunnel before Prowl found his first room to check. It did not lead to a communication array or a ship dock. The next 12 rooms he encountered and the three other hallways also did not lead to either of his chosen destinations. 

The 13th room did contain a long range communications array. Or what remained of one. The controls had been ripped from the bulk of the arrays computer, the screen was shattered over the floor. Maybe an engineer like Wheeljack could repair it, but there was no way Prowl would be able to get it operating again. That wasn't the worst of it. The remains were still sparking and the lights that were well known for burning out if left on for too long were still flickering. The destruction had happened recently, Prowl looked around for other clues that might reveal how recently it has been destroyed. 

Prowl backed out of the room as quickly as he could. Some very delicate metals in the machine had not fully broken down by the time he found them, which meant the system had been broken less than ten minutes before Prowl had found the room. Someone else is here, and considering that they had worked for Tarantulas to even get here, they were going to be hostile. He needed to get back to Springer immediately.

During the rush to get back to the main body of the lab, Prowl's haste almost sent him to the ground several times. He arrived back in the main lab in at least half the time it had taken him to walk to the communication room. 

"Wake up! Springer, you need to get up right now!" Prowl let himself fall to the ground beside the unconscious mech before grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. 

_____________________________________________

  
  


He was so fucking _sick_ of being woken up like this, Springer let out a groan. Everything hurt and he have not gotten real rest in who knows how long. Springer was not getting up.

"Springer! Get up now, that is an order!" Prowl almost sounded frantic. But Prowl almost never panicked or at least never let others know that he was panicking.

His optics flicked to life, revealing Prowl in all his battered glory. "What's going on?" Springer sat up and looked over his injuries. Obvious field patches, he still had both of his swords, and his processor felt much less fuzzy.

"We are not the only mechs in this base, and neither of us are in good enough shape to fight a mech at full health. We need to find a shuttle craft and get out of here." Prowl attempted to shove Springer to his peds, which didn't work because with one leg, Prowl's leverage was pretty pathetic.

Springer rose on his own and shot Prowl a smug look, like he hadn't swayed in place after rising. 

"Well, I can totally take them," he said, like he didn't know that was a blatant lie before pulling Prowl upright.

Prowl shot him a frown, for the boast or grabbing him with warning who knows. "Well, I already checked out the right hallway so the dock should be down the left one."

"Aye, aye sir!" Springer intentionally wheeled toward the right hall before correcting himself and heading down the left hall, leaving Prowl struggling behind him.

The two walked, or hobbled in Prowl's case down the hallway in silence for quite a while. They passed several closed rooms, none of which had any useful supplies; and several hallways that dead ended before they found the base's docks. 

The sight that met them left the two momentarily stunned. The was a ship, and not some tiny little junker, a nice middle sized ship. Big enough to fit at least 25 bots comfortably. Apparently luck had not abandoned them just yet.

"You check the cargo hold, see if the ship is loaded for travel. I'll check the control deck and see if it is functional." Prowl ordered, like he Had any authority over Springer at this point. According to Arcee he wasn't really even an Autobots anymore. But it will be more time efficient if he checked the cargo hold, there is more area to be covered walking wise and Prowl is slower than an overloaded freighter. 

"Yeah, alright whatever." Springer didn't wait to hear Prowl's response, he just took off into the ship. After several minutes of wandering he found the cargo hold, which was full to the brim with supplies for a long journey. Plenty of energon of both the drinking and ship fuel varieties, several boxes of metal supplements, and plating for ship repairs. It was like seeing a cargo hold set up by Ultra Magnus it was so perfectly organized.

"That is kinda creepy," and like, had that Tarantulas mech set this up as a possible escape method? Or the other weird techno-organic hybrids. _Welp, nothing else to see down here so I might as well go up to the command deck and tell that stick-aft what's up._

On his way up the stairs, Springer spotted a door with a red security light above it. What could this be? Or more interestingly what could be in here? _I guess I can always come back and check it out later_. So Springer took a mental note on where the door was before resuming his way to the control deck. 

Once he arrived there, Springer immediately spotted Prowl in the captain's chair flipping controls and glaring at the area where the long distance coms should have been. Instead there was a sparking mess, which explains Prowl's rage. 

"So whoever it is in this place with us struck here too huh?" Springer flopped in one of the other control chairs, and immediately regretted it as his injuries pinged him. 

"Yes, whoever it is, is very determined to keep us from contacting anyone. Did you find any supplies in the cargo hold?" Prowl finally turned to look at him, but their optics met for less then a second before he swiveled back to the controls.

"Well," Springer glared into his back, _prick,_ "the cargo hold is stocked for at least half a year of travel so I think we're pretty set"

"Half a year?" The Doubt in his voice was really starting to rub Springer the wrong way, "that seems satisfactory. So let's not give our shadow a chance to join us." 

At that, the ship's engines roared to life, and the launch belts automatically pinned Springer in his seat. 

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" What was Prowl doing?? You don't just take a ship off without having any idea what was outside, even in the Wrecker playbook that was considered an idiot move. 

Prowl just shot him a smug look, that was fairly lopsided without an eye and half of his chevron before Prowl armed the ships guns and shot their way out of the hanger. And then the two were home free into open space. 

  
  
Chapter notes:  
  


Look, sometimes when you want a fic you just have to write it yourself.

Thanks for reading this! 


	2. Spider-Furry Conspiracy Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further investigation of the ship reveal some things no one wants to know, and aggravation of underlying tensions.

Honestly, Springer should not be so surprised. The ability to shoot through space lock doors was standard pilot training during the war. The _Wreckers_ or probably Kup hadn't decided to teach him that. Then again with Springer's track record, not teaching him was probably for the best. Shooting through the door when you did not know where you might emerge was _not_ standard procedure, but Prowl could calculate his way around that.

The shuttle doors opened out of a large asteroid into an asteroid belt; a tactically sound location for a hidden base. Such belts could be hazardous to fly through if a mech went into it too fast or was unaware of other factors such as the paths the debris took or high collision locations where orbits crossed. Fortunately, Prowl was very specialized in calculating the trajectories of many objects. 

There were several spots where a collision had occurred recently enough that he had to replot his path out of the field to prevent damage to the ship. Calculating their location would be easier once they were in more open space and getting stranded far from any habited system would almost currently be fatal. That result was fairly low statistically as long as they did not do anything risky. 

“Hey Prowl, you knew that the creepy lab was in an asteroid right?” Springer interrupted the calculations and occasionally fatalistic chains of thought Prowl had been wrapped up in during their ‘escape’.

“The vibrations of the walls matched that of the floor which meant there was an equal amount of thick material on the outside. Also Tarantulas likes having easy access to materials and striping metals from asteroids is much easier than from a planet on the small scale.” The urge to grin was strong. Several million years had changed them both a great deal, but some habits were still the same after all that time. 

Apparently Springer had not actually expected an answer, the surprise on his face plain to see. He turned to look out the window and the next two hours as they cleared the belt were spent in silence.

\-----------------

  
  


"Springer, go run a full inventory, see what we have to work with." 

Springer startled from where he had been staring out of the front window. "Wait, why do I have to do that?" 

"Because I am calculating our location and you don't seem to have anything better to do." Honestly, this is the most efficient way to accomplish all they need to as soon as possible.

But apparently Springer didn't think of it that way because he sprang to his feet a look of anger painted across his features. "I am not one of your little followers who jump at your every command! Hell, I'm not even one of your subordinates anymore now that the war is over. Frag you and your commands." 

And with that, Springer stormed out of the command room, rotters twitching with agitation. 

_Well,_ Prowl thought startled by the sudden outburst, _Springer is surprisingly easy to frazzle compared to what I remember. Hopefully it is not a side effect of his long coma._

\---------------------

And Springer generally was a fairly even keeled mech. Cool, and collected in any situation, a mech could roll with anything. Except Prowl. Once, while Springer found him irritating, Prowl was a mecha he could work with. Like, no. Trust to look out for his well being, frag no. But trust to use them for the good of the cause and to do everything he could to minimize casualties while still completing the mission. 

Now, after Garrus 9, and the way he had used Kup? Frag Prowl and any and all of his plans. 

Springer emerged from his thoughts deep within the bowels of the ship. Or as deep as one could be in a ship this size. He wasn't lost, Springer was well trained in keeping track of his directions regardless of how much attention he was paying them. 

He could go back up and try to be helpful. _Ha_ , or he could explore the ship by himself. After all, the creep scientist owned this ship. Who knows what kind of dangerous creepy crawlies could be lurking around. 

This could be approached in a neat orderly fashion. Or he could just bust straight into the nearest room and see what was there. Obviously he did the latter, slamming open the nearest sliding door with a rattling slam. 

But it was just a standard berthroom no science experiments, no jargon filled posters on the walls. Just a boring military style berthroom. Disappointed, Springer closed the door a bit more gently then he had opened it. 

The rest of the rooms in the hallway were the same. Booooring. Springer had de-escalated from slamming from opening the doors to just showing them open by the time he found the first weird room. 

Mostly opening a standard berth room that had been used as an operating room for a dissection of some organic beast. Springer might have been able to identify it if the thing was in more pieces. Or at least if some body parts were grouped together in a way he could understand. Instead it just looked like the creature had been mummified layer by layer, each system grouped together. Not the grossest thing he had seen by a long shot, but still icky. 

The next several rooms were the same. Mutilated organic creatures, occasionally mixed with a mutilated mecha. Standard mad scientist stuff. 

Springer had gone numb to the bodies in time to be blindsided by spider furries yandere shrine to Prowl. Not the kind of thing one wants to see of anything least of their commanding officer. It definitely did not say good things about the autobots that some neutral had managed to get so many photos of a member of high command.

The rest of the room was occupied by a huge conspiracy board. Just covered in pictures of green mecha, both autobots and neutrals. Each picture had a label next to them. 

Springer moved over to the board, having spotted a picture of himself on the board. Creepy. Especially since Springer hadn't posed for the picture. Next to it the label listed his name, role within the Autobots, and speculation on his relationship with Prowl. Ok, the mech was obsessed with Prowl but, like, stalking all green mecha who interacted with him. Dang the mech needed to chill.

But in smaller text underneath that was a cross list of personality traits. Listing his personality (creepy) crossed with the Osterios that Tarantulas has been yelling about during their confrontation at the core. So, it wasn't a creepy ex lover thing it was a creepy search thing. Fun. 

So that explained why Tarantulas had called him that name. Incorrect assumption that he was this Osterios mecha. Wonder why Tarantulas was looking for him? Maybe a third lover? But that didn't quite match his tone during their one conversation. 

Prowl definitely knew all of this but odds of prying it out of him would probably be a real pain in the aft. Like getting literally anything out him wasn't a pain but eh. Perhaps one of the next couple of rooms would have answers for him.

\-----------------

Meanwhile Prowl was up on the bridge calculating their location as he said he would do. He had been planing to lay low until things on Cybertron had cooled down, not drop off the map entirely. Who knows what Starscream has been up to in his plan for universale domination.

So Prowl activated the computer and started triangulation their location. It was not the first time Prowl had found himself lost in a section of space without the knowledge of how he had gotten there. Was not even the third time it had happened. Nevertheless, Prowl crunched out the location. The middle of nowhere would be one way to refer to it. Quadrant 32, section k. Very, very far away from Cybertron, but still a sector that had been pulled into the cybertronian war. 

It was also currently Galactic Council territory, where being cybertronian regardless of affiliation would be enough to get one slagged. 

So that changed their plans a little. Get out of quadrant 32 to quadrant 23 which contained several planets that participated in cybertronian trade. The perfect location to hitch a ride back to Cybertron. Prowl could hook up with one of his contacts and plan his next move, while Springer could go running back to the wreckers and join them in whatever they planned to do next. 

After all, Springer was not his problem any-"Hey Prowl, you are not going to Believe some of the weird shit that science dude left on this ship! It's totally fragged!"

So apparently however much Prowl had managed to aggravate him earlier, Tarantulas's experiments managed to bring him back up. Or just getting to wander around the ship for- he checked his chronometer- 5 hours. That would probably be enough time for him to calm down. 

But Springer could have found something important. Clues as to what Tarantulas had been up to during his time out of the war, new inventions, _possibly back ups of old inventions._ Many things that would be best left lost or forgotten. Which meant Prowl was back to one of his oldest, and least favorite jobs. Hiding information that may be useful in the future, but should stay out of cybertronian hands for now. 

"Tarantulas left his research laying around?" Time to pry a little information out of Springer, see how much he found and how much of that he understood. 

Springer looked at Prowl with optics glinting with morbid delight. "If that is what you call way too many shattered corpses then yeah." A mischievous look crossed his face, "or maybe his stalker shrine for you is more interesting?" 

Ah the corpses that Tarantulas had used for his-"excuse me he has What??" With the way Tarantulas had acted during their interactions in the noisemaze it made sense that Tarantulas had been keeping an optic on him during their time apart, but a shrine?

"Course that's not as weird as his green mech conspiracy wall, but the shrine is more of a security risk in _your_ mind." Springer turned away from Prowl with a casual shrug. "I could show you if you want." 

Prowl glanced back at the ships radar for a moment, making sure the debris radar was on and active before turning to follow Springer "Well, lead the way."

\-----------------

So he followed Springer down into the ship, first through hallways with identical doors before they started passing ones that had obviously been forced open. Eventually Springer stopped in front of a door that had been slammed shut fairly hard.

"So this is the creepy stalker room," he shot Prowl a predatory grin, "ready to see how poor Autobot security is?"

If the room did not contain top secret information then Prowl would not be too concerned about the information Tarantulas had managed to gather. He hadn't managed to find out that Springer was Ostieros until Prowl tripped up and gave that away to his face. The odds of him having found anything truly damning were low. 

That did not make the contents of the room a less unpleasant shock. Springer had not been exaggerating when he called the collection creepy. Photos, transcriptions of conversations, along with quite a few data pads represented exactly how close of an eye Tarantulas had on Prowl. 

Springer looked amused by the probably startled look on Prowl's face, " If you want to see something wilder look at this!" He gestured to the opposite side of the room which was covered in pictures of far, far to many pictures of green mecha. Predominantly autobots, but there were several neutrals and several deceptions as well. 

Prowl moved over to the search information that had been collected. Some images had very small labels, mecha like Hound who were older then the war. All MTOs had labels listing when they were made, the first battle they appeared in. Ones preceding Springer's creation had the same mark, a different one then the pre-war mechas. Probably Tarantulas’s way of grouping odds on who his darling Osterios had become. 

While scanning through the data of the group Tarantulas had tagged as most likely to have contained his creation, Prowl spotted Springer's image. Intrigued by how well the cover he had made for Springer had held up to Tarantulas’s scrutiny. It did not take long for Prowl to confirm that Tarantulas had utterly fallen for the cover story. No notes commenting on the large gap between Springer's alleged creation and the first battle he was involved in, a considerably larger gap then was common for MTOs. The fact that several parts of Springer's medical files were classified as top security was another fact that Prowl had worried would give away his origins. 

Prowl's contemplation of the board was once again interrupted by Springer who had probably lost interest in watching Prowl study a board for the past, Prowl checked his chronometer, oh. He had been analyzing the board for the past hour whoops. 

"Anything interesting?" Springer had apparently gone digging while Prowl was absorbed in the board, based on the opened drawers and ripped open panels where he had found some more secretive cubby holes.

Prowl paused for a moment, deliberating on exactly how much information to reveal. 

"Well, despite revealing several holes in some of our security systems, the encryption and other security elements on higher risk secrets held up. Against someone like Tarantulas, that is a good testament to its effectiveness." Prowl could not have prevented the grin from crossing his features. Impactor had complained several times about how paranoid he had been setting up the protections for Tarantulas's lingering work within the Autobots after he was gone.

Springer looked rather distrustfully of the grin, which was more of a smirk. " Well, while you were doing that, look what I found," and he matter of factly held out a rather scraped up data pad, "this is the only thing I found in here with any encryption on it. Think your fancy processor can crack it?"

Intrigued, Prowl reached over and activated the data pad. It was a standard model for the height of the war, sturdy with a backing instead of a frame with a projected image, sturdier and required less rare minerals. The words were also not a new sight. The data pad appeared to contain a copy of a religious text, probably an intentional irony with Mesu- Tarantulas’s sense of humor. Prowl attempted several ciphers that his former partner had used when they were working together, but unsurprisingly he had changed his codes in the past million years.

“I will probably be able to decipher this eventually, but it will take me some time.” Prowl pocketed it into his subspace before adjusting his grip on the crutch under his arm. “In the meantime, we should go run a proper inventory on the ship. Look for replacement parts, see how many rations we have to work with, as well as the ship’s fuel levels.” He began limping his way towards the door. After all survival takes priority over digging up secrets best left forgotten. 

\-----------------

Well, after the fun science horror expedition simply running a standard inventory check was almost relaxing. Almost. Springer stifled a sigh. After the first five or so Prowl had snapped at him, ‘if you don't want to do this then fine! Go sulk somewhere else and stop distracting me.’ and again, not a fan of the science body horror museum so here Springer was. Running inventory. Boring boring inventory. Yay.

At least he had some interesting things to contemplate. Like the Stalker wall, and the coded data pad, and the fact that Prowl was probably plotting something. Prowl's plots could be a real coin flip in terms of how much he would hate the results. Sometimes they were good plans that helped bring more mechs back from a mission in one piece. And sometimes they were seriously fucked attempts at achieving the ‘greater good’. Odds were that this would be the helpful kind since Prowl had broken the silence to ask Springer on his knowledge of the 32 Quadrant. 

At least it was a pleasant silence instead of an awkward one. Attempting to start a conversation by asking Prowl about his history with Tarantulas was one of Springer's poorer ideas. Lost in his helm Prowl was no fun, but a jumpy secretive Prowl was worse. That was a new development. In the past, Prowl reacted to other poking into secret information with a sharp tongue and an almost smug refusal to give in. how much of his jumpiness was due to whatever happened on Cybertron that drove him out here, his kidnapping and whatever had happened to him while he was in Tarantulas’s claws, or some other event the Springer had missed. He generally didn't spend his free time analyzing his teammates, which Prowl unfortunately was for now, but the alternative was trying to understand creepy science mumbo jumbo so. Contemplating his former superior it was.

Better a superior that Springer was familiar with then one he barely knew. Imagine being trapped in this situation with the Prime. The mech had no clues about what some of his soldiers had to do to help them last against the Decepticons, and this mission made those darker elements impossible to ignore. 

A clatter shook him from his thoughts. A quick look revealed that Springer hasn't knocked something over in his inattention. Prowl was cursing to himself as he awkwardly pulled himself up from the floor, a cord across the floor made it clear how he had ended up down there in the first place. Springer got that. The first couple of times he had lost a limb had been a marathon in quickly picking up alternate methods of moving. If you were stumbling back to the ship after another mission gone sideways, taking more damage was the last thing you wanted to do. 

That would be a problem eventually. Cybertronians were good at adapting, it was their greatest skill, but there were limits on what medics could fix. And time was definitely a factor that made repairs more difficult. Some things could not be fixed short of a full frame reformat.

It had been a long cycle, and Springer consulted the stock list he had been working on; they had probably taken stock of most of the ship's contents. The ones in the storage hold anyway.

“Hey Prowl, probably time to call it a cycle. I don't know about you, but after a day like this calling it early sounds like a good idea.” Springer gave an exaggerated stretch. Prowl was one of _those_ workers. Completely willing to work himself to the verge of stasis if it seemed like a good idea. He had had several of that type in the Wreckers over the years. 

Springer peeked over at Prowl to see if he took the bait.

“Well,” Prowl let out a sigh of his own “we will probably not find much else at this point. Overworking on our injuries would be a foolish decision.” Prowl walked over to Springer pausing when he reached his side, “You have a better knowledge on where to look for..” a look of distaste crossed his face, “clean berths, so lead the way.”

Springer grinned down at him. It was always fun watching proud Prowl admit he didn't know something. “Well lucky for you, the previous resident was kind enough to leave the rooms closest to the cockpit empty of corpses.” He offered Prowl his arm, “Shall we?”

  
The dark look Prowl shot him in return was _hilarious._ Worth it Springer noted as Prowl stormed past him. Harassing Prowl was always fun, and it wasn't like he had anything better to do on the ship at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy this chapter exist! and it only took six months. Buckle up Ya'll, they are going to be here for a bit might as well set the stage. 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	3. Offering an Olive Branch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl and Springer continue their journey to returned to Cybertron. Random encounters and personality clash do not make the process any easier.

Springer fell face first into the bearth. It has been a long, looong day. He had gone longer without sleep but that was a matter of necessity instead of want. 

For a moment he simply let himself enjoy. The soft comfort of a bearth was something he would never take for granted. Wrecker missions, or at least the long ones, involved sleeping on all sorts of terrain and environments. Springer's personal vote for strangest sleeping spot was entwined with cave vines along a ravine on the planet Slipris in quadrant 26.

It was strange, thinking of missions as a thing of the past. After all, allegedly, Cybertron is rebuilding. Individuals who specialized in wrecking probably were not considered very useful. 

A post-war skill set was not something Springer had planned for, mostly because the idea of the war ending had seemed unimaginable. Almost all of the MTOs he had served with expressed the same option when the topic came up. Those of us built for war never really pictures living past it. 

And those were thoughts for another day. Perhaps Arcce could put in a good word for him when he eventually returned to Cybertron? Or perhaps he could continue to wander. Traveling the universe could be fun. 

Future Springer's problem. Current Springer was going to sleep.

______________

Springer emerged from his room looking like the human concept of the living dead. A stumbling, mindless being he shuffled into the bridge and stole the cube of energon Prowl had been planning to drink from his hands. 

The glare that earned him went ignored, Springer was hungry, there was food. Simple.

But one cube was not enough to sate the triple-changers thirst. This was expressed by him looking down at the empty container with a forlorn look.

Prowl rolled his optic at such childish behavior before getting up and hobbling over to one of the cabinets and pulling out another cube. 

Springer was aware enough at this point to notice that he had basically inhaled the cube before he walked over to the cabinet and downed another two cubes. By cube number 5, he had slowed to drinking like a normal mech instead of one possessed. 

"Back in the land of the living yet?" Prowl sniped at him from the command chair he had retreated to when Springer had stormed the cabinet. 

A comment like that didn't deserve an answer, so Springer just grunted before settling into the copilot's chair to finish his cube.

A peaceful silence linger between the two as they just….. existed. Watching the stars as the ship speed through space, simply living in the moment. Beautiful. 

And then Springer finished his cube. Now fully awake, the silence lasted less than five minutes before being broken. 

"So… what's been going on since Garrus-9? The others mentioned that the war is finally over but they didn't really have time to get into the details." Springer acted like this was just a chill question because he was curious, legs stretched out under the control panel arms stretched above his head. 

After all he was out for all of that stuff, what did he know about the end of the war and current events on Cybertron? 

Ok, that was a lie, Springer did have some knowledge on how the multi-million year war could have ended, the wreckers kept a close eye on all events in the war to at least have a hint as to what they might have to deal with next.

Knowledge is power, and the Autobot secret keeper was stuck right there with him for the next who knows how long. There is no way Springer wasn't going to try digging for info.

Ah-ha! One of Prowl's doorwings had twitched at that question. That could be a nervous or irritated reaction. Or just a twitch in his circuits. The joys of frame reading.

"Well, the dark universe invasion came to a head forcing both sides to work together. Megatron was captured and the matrix split in half so the rest of command just tossed their hands up and decided the war was over." Oh Prowl had not exactly agreed with that series of decisions. Good thing the console wasn't flippable. 

"The NAILs decided to come scurrying back now that the rest of us had finished the war," oh nevermind there was the pissed Prowl face. Damn, the Decepticons didn't make him look that mad half of the time. "Shockwave led the Decepticons in a revolt and almost destroyed the planet, Starscream was elected leader of Cybertron for the rebuilding, Megatron was made an Autobot and is currently off planet, we made contact with the colonies, and that is about it." Prowl turned away, pretending to input something into the ship.

Springer faked a look of shock and almost toppled out of his chair.

"Wow I missed a lot!" Course, Springer knew all of that information already. Arcee had been especially helpful in filling him in on all that had happened in the past several years. And he was glad for that. It made the parts that Prowl had glazed over, i.e. all of his own actions, clear as things that he was not willing to straight up admit. 

Now, with all those pieces how would he react to..

"So what about you? Doubt you were just going to let everyone else shape the future of Cybertron." 

Prowl whirled to face him, wings raised high and face creased with rage. Whoops, that may have been a bigger button then he had planned on pushing. Pissing him off had not been the goal. This time.

"No, I did Not just let the likes of Starscream and those thrice accursed Neutrals shape the future we fought so hard for! I contained the Decepticons, I foiled Ratbat's attempts at power, Megatron never would have gotten free if they had just noticed Bombshell's plot!"

Prowl's voice had reached a full octave above his normal register. Must have been holding this in for a while, Springer noted absently as the tirade continued into what Starscream had been up to during his presidency and the refusal of the other Autobots to listen to his warnings. From there it dissolved into every decision Optimus Prime had made after the end of the war, and several from before that. 

Once the list of Optimus mistakes had gotten to him decking Prowl in the face after combing together with the matrix of combination, and was that just wild; Prowl had wound down from screaming to muttering, optic unfocused, lost in the memories. A look Springer had seen thousands of times over the war. 

There were many ways to snap someone out of this state, but a ship alarm went off before Springer could decide on how to snap him back to the present. 

Prowl startled to attention, quickly looking at the glowing alert that had appeared on his screen before jumping into action, quickly adjusting the ship's trajectory.

"Springer, is there a cloaking device of some kind over there?" 

He scanned the dashboard on the copilot's side, and quickly identified several buttons labeled for stealth, pulling them up on the ship's console to confirm what they did before flipping them.

"What's going on, pirates?" Normally they could probably kick the aft of anyone who crossed them, but in enemy territory and injured made fighting a very bad idea. 

"No, looks like a cargo ship on the radar, but if they identify us as cybertronians the council guard might get called." And they were in no shape to deal with the council. 

The ship's info packet on the stealth systems made it clear that they covered radar and several other detection systems but that did not guarantee they would be undiscovered. Prowl was clearly aware of that limitation, as he directed the ship towards a nearby cluster of space debris. 

As soon as the ship was positioned behind the cluster they cut the ship's engines. The vessel coasted along, hopefully appearing as just another object floating through space. 

The two of them sat there in silence, optics glued to the panel. Watching as the other ship continued past them on it's route. 

That's how they remained for over an hour, waiting for the other ship to be well clear before they resumed heading towards quadrant 23. 

______________

Prowl had not slept for two days straight like Springer, but he had not been up long before the other had joined him on the bridge a couple of hours ago. Despite that, Prowl was ready to go back to sleep after the back to back stressors of losing his cool in front of the other and the near miss with the trade ship. 

He had spent the previous day by himself looking through the ships coding, both for some helpful little extra bits that Tarantulas may have added and to make sure there was not a tracking device or some other way that his ex may use to follow the ship. Mesutholas had pulled that trick several times while Prowl served as his 'muse'.

The ship was clear of all those signs of tampering, which just made him more apprehensive. Tarantulas had made it very clear that he had no interest in letting go what he considered his. 

"Think we're good to leave the bridge?" Springer pulled Prowl from where he had been lost in thought staring at the console. 

"Yes, if there was another ship traveling with the cargo vessel they would be closer and another traveling the same route would be quite a ways off due to space travel regulations on shipping routes." Regulations, a wonderful thing to know when traveling undercover. 

"In that case, we should get you down to the medbay and patched up properly while we're in the clear." 

Excuse him? Prowl's wings shot up in outrage. He had done a perfectly adequate job patching himself up back at the lab. 

Springer noticed the irritated look on his face and immediately headed off Prowl's protest. "I can see into your leg, and just having clips holding your energon lines closed is asking for something to go wrong."

The glare his true statement earned him did nothing to discourage Springer from using his larger size to haul Prowl out of his seat and off of the bridge. 

The medbay was fortunately clean when the two arrived there. Tarantulas probably performed his dissections in the bearth rooms to keep the medbay clear incase of an emergency. Or something, who knows how that madmech's mind worked. 

"Hey!" Prowl snapped as Springer boldly decided to pick him up and set him on the medbearth. Rude! I am perfectly capable of getting on the bearth without your assistance. He grumbled to himself as Springer started ruffling through drawers and cupboards, setting aside the material he needed as he found them. 

Better then the bare minimum repairs that he had received before leaving Cybertron after the enigma of combination kerfuffle. 

Prowl missed Ratchet as odd a thought that was. Sharp and rude he was, but at least he was a professional. Of course he was biased in the former CMO's favor, Ratchet had been the only medic to at least try and solve the numerous side effects from his reformat into a combiner.

"Hey, Prowl" he started at Springer's interruption into his thoughts, "you're bleeding" he gestured at Prowl's nose.

"It is fine, just a side effect of the gestalt modifications. Did you find the patch materials?" 

Springer waved his hand at the pile of temp patches and several medical grade welders piled neatly on the counter in a semi-organized fashion. The upside of war, everyone who lived long enough knew how to do basic repairs. 

"So we need to properly close up all the stuff in your leg, cover that shattered optic, any other areas you need patched?" Springer listed as he knelt to get a better look at the severed leg. 

"Just those injuries. I do not want a full plating patch on my face, a thin patch will work perfectly well to cover the internals there." Prowl narrowed his optics at the wrecker "And your wounds? Do any of them need greater repairs?" 

"No, I didn't take a lot of physical damage during our spats with Tarantulas goons and the big bad himself wasn't out to rip me limb from limb." Springer winked at him before turning all his focus to the repairs he was doing. 

The triple-charger hummed to himself as he worked on closing tubes completely and other bits before sealing the leg. Mesutholas had done the same when he was lost in a project…

Prowl mentally shoved that thought into the box he kept all the thoughts comparing Springer to his physical creators. Fortunately, the young mech took after the caretakers who raised him. The world did not need a mix of himself and Mesutholas. That would be a nightmare. 

That reminded him, Prowl still had the datapad found in the conspiracy room tucked away in his subspace. Having nothing better to do and aware that it was going to take a while as all the loose bits in his leg were properly secured, he pulled it out and idly started working on the encryption.

It took until Springer had finished sealing off his leg for Prowl to finish decrypting the data pad. Thank small fortunes for that, because if Prowl had started reading it while repairs were still being done, he would have damaged something with how violently he jerked at the contents. 

It was a personal journal documenting what first, Mesutholas and then, Tarantulas had been thinking and doing from when he decided to build his perfect creation until- Prowl quickly jumped to the most recent entries on the pad- when he had tracked Prowl to Earth before capturing him. Every thought, all of the failed attempts, everything, was in here. 

Prowl fought the urge to purge. The memories of all the failures, like many of Prowl's personal failures, were kept buried deep in his processor. And it probably contained all his thoughts as he looked for his creation, watching Prowl for hints as to where he had hidden Osterios. 

Mesutholas had probably been carrying the datapad on him when Impactor had shoved him into the noisemaze all those years ago. 

Prowl looked up and met Springer's optics. 

The younger mech had remained still, he knew better then to try and touch someone who had just had a reaction like that. They remained like that for a moment, frozen, as Prowl's processor raced. 

There were two options. Let Springer see the pad, or hide it away back in subspace. Tarantulas had called Springer Osterios back in the noisemaze. The data pad would spell out, in excruciating detail, his origins and his relationship to the scientist and Prowl. If he hid it and refused to tell Springer exactly why, then he might decide to go looking for answers elsewhere in the ship. And there would be other clues to the connection, Prowl could not cover everything. Not on this ship. 

Perhaps there was a third option. "My apologies, I have decrypted the datapad and its contents are… disturbing." Prowl paused for a moment, deciding on how to best word the information he was going to reveal. "The encrypted pad you found is a personal journal covering a project of Tarantulas that I was very involved with. It contains his thoughts through when I believed him… taken care of and the period of time before he captured me." 

He intentionally broke eye contact with his creation, allowing his discomfort to show through his posture as much as he hated doing so. The implied personal horror would hopefully delay Springer's desire to dig into the journal's secrets before Prowl let him. 

"I would prefer if you would let me look through all of it before you may see its contents." He held the datapad up against his chassis. Go on Springer, buy it. 

"Yeah, all right. I'll leave you to the spider's icky thoughts." Springer had his optics narrow, but he could not tell if that was due to suspicion or concern. "So put that away and let me cover up the hole in your face."

Prowl returned the datapad to his subspace, and the two remained silent as Springer cut and then placed the thin patch over the damaged optic. 

Once that was finished, Springer straightened up and then just lingered. Task complete, but unwilling or unready to leave. 

"Did you find a proper crutch when you were looking in the cabinets?" The young mech started as Prowl pulled him from his thoughts. 

"Yeah, lemme grab it." 

As Springer shuffled through the closet on the far wall of the med bay, Prowl decided that there was a discussion they might as well have now.

"We should come to an accord. Or at least discuss some arrangement for the duration of this trip." Prowl rubbed at his face, careful not to touch the covering. 

"What kind of accord?" Springer asked as he returned carrying a proper crutch. He hopped up onto the bearth next to Prowl before he started adjusting it for someone the car's size.

"Primarily, that we will not fight or sabotage the other until we have reached our destination; whether that is Cybertron or a trade planet that is mech friendly." He paused as he mentally covered other concerns. "Standard autobot mission perimeters."

Springer let out a quiet, "a-ha!" As he adjusted the crutch to the proper length.

"That works for me. We don't like each other, but we keep things professional while on the 'mission' so to speak" he handed it over to Prowl before rising off of the bearth. 

"I'm game if you are." Springer stuck out his hand in the very human gesture of a handshake.

"Then we are in agreement." Prowl grasped it in return, as he positioned the crutch and stood. 

"Well, now that's all cleared up." He released his hand and headed for the door. "I'm going to do some more exploring, let you know if I find anything interesting."

"Very well, I'll head back to watching our route at the bridge." Prowl called after him. The urge to add a warning about the possible dangers in the ship was strong, but he knew such a comment would simply antagonize the wrecker. Better Prowl keep an optic on him from the bridge instead. 

And perhaps, if he felt up to it, look into the journal covering the personal feelings of his ex as he planned to make his perfect creation. After all, if Springer was busy exploring the ship then it would be less likely for him to see Prowl's reaction to what his lover had been thinking during the last bit of peace between them and how it had spiraled to the point of no return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy 4 months instead of 6! It's an improvement lol. Anyway! First two chapters have been edited with spelling and grammar fixes. 
> 
> Next chapter has been started so hopefully it won't be several months before the next update.
> 
> Thank you for reading this!!


End file.
